


Like Thunder

by clovercrown



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Avatar: The Legend of Korra References, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29932968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clovercrown/pseuds/clovercrown
Summary: Choi San, an archer in training at the Yuyan Academy, tries to do something noble and ends up a captive of the crew of Aurora. When the world suddenly changes after Harmonic Convergence, he is left with a choice - between the chance to belong to something greater than himself and true freedom.Summaries, man.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Like Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> For those who may be unclear, this au takes place during LOK.
> 
> I may up the rating on this later, depending

“Joohyun, 100. Pass.”

Joohyun bowed solemnly as Sifu Sohyun leafed through her stack of target papers and handed one over. It was the first perfect score San’s training group had gotten on this test, but their stern-faced instructor always refused to betray even a hint of pride until the rest of the class had received their scores. 

Unfortunately, San would have missed it even if Sohyun had started crowing like a pigster and doing proud backflips. All the attention he could spare was currently tied up with the feeling that the walls of their stone courtyard were slowly closing in on him. 

“Yewon, 100. Pass”

From several places down the line, San did notice Yewon’s fingers move slightly over the neat single puncture all her testing arrows had made. Muscles in her cheek tensed, working to keep a straight face as was expected of her. Joohyun always seemed to have an easier time staying stoic through their tests than Yewon did. But after this one they would both have plenty of reason to smile.

San felt happy for them, he really did - he’d like nothing better than to share in their excitement. But something had felt wrong as he had shot the last arrow in his quiver. Wrong enough to make him anxious now. It didn’t help that Sohyun was moving down the line at an absolutely glacial pace while their grades threatened to fly out of her hands into the dark clouds bearing down on Pohuai from out at sea. Maybe if they did, this whole ordeal would be over and done with sooner.

“Seokmin, 95. Pass. Hansol, 90. Pass.”

Today’s test was one of precision at a considerable distance, with the added challenge of stronger and stronger storm winds whipping through the training pavilion. One target, one ten-arrow quiver, one chance to pass or fail. Some other training groups had tested before theirs, including younger students who were still learning the basics. He’d seen a few of the newest trainees get frustrated at their scores, which they would soon learn not to do if they wanted to keep all their test points. 

Any trainee who hoped to officially join the Yuyan archers would have to live up to their reputation for accuracy, precision, and discretion. In the era of Avatar Aang, people claimed that the Yuyan could pin a fly to a tree from one hundred yards away - without killing it. No one in San’s training group could do anything like that yet, but he had no doubt that the girls in particular would soon be the bane of local insect life.

“Kihyun, 75. Pass.” 

Sohyun had made it to the classmate on San’s right. She lingered after Kihyun’s bow, staring the young man in the eye and prolonging San’s suffering by a few more seconds. “Fix your stance. I don’t want to have to tell you again.” 

Kihyun nodded. Sohyun’s feedback gave San a sliver of hope. His own volley hadn’t been perfect either, but now he knew it didn’t have to be in order to pass. Just good enough.

“San -”

Sohyun was suddenly facing him and frowning at the next scoring paper in her hand. 

His pulse sped up. He’d tried his best this time, despite the elements. The bow had felt more natural in his hands than it ever had before, the arrows all nocked right on the first try. His judgement of the force and angle needed to overcome the wind would determine if he passed or failed. Was it good enough? 

“ - 55. See me after this.”

Apparently not. San’s stomach plummeted as he took the paper in his hands, leaving behind a sick mixture of disappointment and empty relief at finally knowing. Sure enough, the few holes that he’d managed to pierce through the target paper were scattered around the outer edges in low-scoring zones. Low accuracy, low precision. Not good enough.

There was no time for him to get upset. Sohyun was already staring at him and clearing her throat, so he hurriedly did his bow. His classmates, true to their training, didn’t whisper among themselves or turn to him with pitying looks. They remained at the ready, faces neutral, and San followed their lead. 

Sohyun, meanwhile, finished awarding the remaining scores and then took her place in front of the class, with her back to the judges’ table. A quick command brought San and the rest of the archers to attention so she could make her closing remarks.

“Congratulations to those of you who will be moving up to train on your new teams with Sifu Jeonghwa.” She announced, gesturing to a tall, angular woman at the table behind her. “Those who are not, please meet me in my office after the next gong.” 

As if on cue, a single fat raindrop splattered the paper in San’s hand. Sohyun looked at the clouds and then at the judges seated behind her. The three other masters nodded back at her in unison.

“Master Jinyoung has asked me to remind you to check your duty assignment before next week. You can find the new list posted in the training room. Dismissed,” Sohyun pronounced, cutting her final announcements to the chase. 

Another command and San and his classmates bowed to her one final time, palms pressed to fists. She returned the gesture. Only then did a hint of a smile cross her face.

The rest of his training group started to move toward the inner walls of the stronghold as the rain began to pick up, chattering and comparing notes. Seokmin, however, hung back in the open with San. He glanced down at San’s scoring sheet, then back up at him with an apologetic expression.

“It’s okay,” Seokmin said, reaching out and patting his shoulder. “The wind just wasn’t with you today, that’s all. You’ll get it next time.”

“Yeah.” San forced a smile. “Something like that.”

Seokmin took the hint, gave his shoulder one more gentle squeeze, then turned back to catch up with the others. 

That was it then. The rest of his training group would all be moving on to join their assigned teams of trainees. If they passed the next level of training along with their new teams, they would receive the distinctive red tattoo across their eyes and officially become Yuyan archers. San even had a 20 yuan bet going against Hansol that Seokmin would cry during his tattoo ceremony.

The worst part was the crushing familiarity of this feeling. Seeing the people around him move up and move on while he stayed in place was nothing new to him. 

His entire childhood had been spent training with the firebenders in his father’s school on Ma’inka, from young pro-bending hopefuls to visiting sages and military elites. As long as San could remember, he’d learned, practiced, and even taught the principles of firebending alongside them; though one by one they always eventually completed their training and moved on. He mastered each form dozens of times over and sparred in hundreds of matches. By all accounts, San had been one of the most well-trained and knowledgeable firebending students in the world.

But no matter how much passion and chi he poured into his movements, they’d never produced so much as a spark of flame. 

His parents hadn’t been that disappointed that he showed no firebending ability, just confused. After all, San’s sister could firebend just fine and had been unquestioningly accepted to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls as soon as she was old enough to attend. However, they were proud Fire Nation citizens who still lived and died by tradition and ceremony, whether or not they could bend. San’s father was well-respected, if not wealthy, and that meant San was expected to attend a prestigious school. Their family’s good name had been enough to secure a place at one of the United Republic’s premier military schools and one of the few that would accept nonbending students - the Yuyan Academy. 

According to San’s father the Yuyan archers were little more than a legend in the days of the previous avatar and a well kept secret of the Fire Nation forces. He should be honored to attend. 

On his way out of the training complex, San passed a group of tattooed graduates, looking more sullen than legendary. Seven or so of them were huddled out of the rain under the eaves of a barrack building, muttering amongst themselves. Like most of the other full-fledged archers he had met, none of them said a word to him as he walked by. They barely spared him a glance. All but one of them anyway - a striking young man with a wide mouth actively scowled at him as he passed. 

The strong expression came as such a surprise it nearly stopped San in his tracks. The archer just kept glaring until one of the other graduates nudged him and diverted his attention back to the group.

San arrived at the training room just before the gong and found Sohyun’s area empty. The duty assignment sheet was pinned to the wall just inside the door, as promised. A quick scan told him he would be helping the youngest students with their supplementary training during the winter rotation. Not the easiest work, but thankfully mostly indoors. Something like guard duty in this weather would be a nightmare.

The gong sounded and Sohyun still hadn't arrived, so San stepped further into the room to wait by her desk. After a few minutes of fidgeting and trying not to think about what this meeting had in store, he started to pace. First back and forth from the desk to the door, then in slow circles around the room, idly taking in his master’s stuff.

Through the narrow aperture that served as a window, he could see that the rain had picked up even more. The wind was howling now too and threatened several times to scatter the contents of Sohyun’s desk. On his third or fourth lap around, one of the papers caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks. A twisting, jealous part of him stirred as he pinned down the fluttering page and locked his gaze onto the newest squad roster. 

The first name he recognized was Joohyun. She would be leading her own elite squad of five, of course. No surprises there, she could outshoot their entire group and was the oldest by two years. If she and her new squad passed muster, they would likely be assigned to join the personal detail of the Fire Lord or some other high-ranking official. 

Yewon and Kihyun’s respective squads would be preparing to join United Forces auxiliary groups - teams of six or seven made up of specialists from all nations. And Seokmin and Hansol had both been placed on the same thirteen-man demonstration team. San’s eyes dragged down the page, looking for his own name. It could be there. Maybe there had been some sort of mistake and he would be getting a team after all. 

There was a Choi Seungcheol, a Choi Yuna, and even Hansol Choi, who usually used the Republic City spelling instead. But no Choi San.

“You know why your name’s not there.”

San spun around to see Sohyun leaning against the doorframe. She tilted her head at the testing paper stuffed into the waistband of his uniform.

“I want to say that your form has improved, but you and I both know that isn’t quite true.”

“I’m sorry, Sifu. I’m working on it. What else can I do?” 

He knew the answer. ‘Be different’. No one ever said it outright, but that’s what they always meant.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told you before. Archers don’t -”

“Archers don’t control the elements around them,” San recited in unison, trying to keep annoyance out of his voice. “That’s why bending is forbidden while we’re in training.” 

He’d only heard this a million times. Whenever a classmate used their bending within the walls of the stronghold, the instructors would trot out the same tired line. If they did so too many times, the school would deem them “not serious enough” about becoming an archer and would help them seek out some other training placement, usually somewhere like the United Forces. But it wasn’t like that rule even applied to him.

Sohyun seemed to pick up on his frustration.

“Bender or not, you have to get used to adapting to your conditions, San. Accept the things you can’t control and use them to your advantage if you can. Winds like these,” she gestured out the arrow slit, “can help speed your arrow, but unless you’re secretly descended from Avatar Aang, you can’t tell them where to go.” 

“It’s harder sometimes, with students who are trained in firebending,” she added in a softer tone. “With the earthbender students too. If you get too used to relying on your own willpower, you’ll become inflexible.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The instructors were aware of the bending capabilities of their students from the moment of enrollment. She had to know.

“But Sifu, I can’t - “ He started.

Sohyun suddenly pushed off of the doorframe, all softness disappearing from her demeanor. She crossed over to him and snatched the new roster out from under his hand.

“You’re letting your failure get the better of you,” she snapped. “Every arrow in your quiver was a chance to do better today, to fix your mistakes.”

She was right, but San couldn’t bring himself to say so aloud. Not when he didn’t know how to fix it yet. Instead he simply bowed his head to his master and mumbled something that sounded appropriately grateful, then turned to take his leave. 

Her voice stopped him right before the threshold.

“Take the evening off from your assignment, San. Visit the ruins or go into the mountain and meditate, I don’t care. You have my permission if anyone asks. Whatever will help you come back tomorrow ready to try again.”

-

San stopped at his room only briefly, to grab his scarf and koala sheep wool coat and to toss his crumpled paper into the corner. Maybe he could use it to kindle some heating coals when he got back. The walk across the marsh to the Taku ruins would be full of mud and frozen frogs in this weather, so on his way out of the dormitories he turned right and headed deeper into the stronghold toward the mountain gate instead.

Carved into the mountainside, the entire back wall of Pohuai would have been nearly impenetrable back in the days when that mattered. Everywhere except for the rear gate. In constructing the fortress, the Fire Nation army designed one entry point to connect with a network of caverns spanning the inside of the mountain. Some were natural caves, but most were passageways dug by imprisoned earthbenders to move goods and people into the fortress in secret. One of the larger caves in the mountain had naturally formed in a way that dampened sound, so it was often used by the students for meditation practice. 

San had just rounded the corner leading up to the old iron gate when a voice caught him by surprise.

“Hey San!”

“Juyeon! What are you doing up here?”

The other trainee was tucked into an alcove along the inner wall, trying to stay out of the worst of the rain. It didn’t seem to be going well for him so far. Based on the color of his uniform, it looked like he was drenched all the way down to the wraps around his calves.

“Door duty,” he answered San, sniffling miserably. “I’m on vaults all this week.” 

Juyeon jerked his head at the wall behind him. The vaults and armory were on the other side of it, at the deepest point of the old fortress. If he’d been up here long enough to get soaked, Juyeon had probably missed San’s test too. That was a relief.

“What’s the point?” he continued. “Even if someone wanted to steal a bunch of musty scrolls and equipment, it’s not like they’d be able to get here in the first place.” 

“Really? Not even one thief? They wouldn’t risk it for all of that sweaty old Fire Nation armor?”

It felt good to make Juyeon laugh, even if San hardly knew him.

“Well, the gate’s unlocked until midnight.” Juyeon made a theatrical sweeping gesture. “I don’t think anyone’s coming in this way tonight, but I’d let them walk right out with that stuff if they wanted it.”

“No, just me,” San replied. “I’ll come back this way in a little while. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tip off any ruffians I see up there about the treasures of Pohuai.”

Juyeon started to laugh again, but was quickly interrupted by a sudden spout of rainwater that came streaming off the roof directly overhead. San stepped neatly out of its way and took that as his cue to leave.

“Catch you later!” He yelled back, and jogged up through the gate into the mouth of the cave.

-

An hour of restless, crushing silence later, San was back on the other side of the gate. Meditation hadn't gone very well. The stillness of the cave set his teeth on edge. It seemed the last thing San needed today was to be alone with his own thoughts.

The storm had calmed a little since he had gone down into the caves, though the rain was still falling steadily and black clouds continued to pass overhead, obscuring the evening sky. The quiet almost seemed to have followed him up out of the mountain if not for the gentle hum of rain on stone. Even the iron gate made no sound as he slipped back through into the fortress. 

No one called out to him this time as San approached Juyeon’s post by the armory. He had been replaced by a trio of the tattooed archers San had seen earlier who were standing around a hole in the wall where the stones appeared to have collapsed through. A pretty-faced one looked to be in charge and was whispering to his squadmates while a sturdy-looking one nudged some of the rubble incuriously with a toe. The third was rifling through a pack on the ground and when he looked up at the sound of San’s footsteps, the scowl on his face was unmistakable. 

“What happened?” San took a chance. He hadn’t met many of the actual Yuyan graduates aside from his instructors, but the ones he had met generally avoided the trainees, even when they were asked a direct question.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Scowl actually replied and stood up. “We’ll take care of this.”

He had an imperious tone to his voice that matched his unfriendly glare. Not wanting to invite any more trouble today, San nodded politely at them and tried to slip by past the fallen stones. 

But then he noticed the feet. 

In the room beyond the collapsed wall, a pair of legs wrapped in rain-soaked cloth stuck out from behind a rack of clay pots. Like someone had tried to hide them, but had done a careless job. The wet marks on the floor were evidence enough of that. And the legs weren’t moving. 

“Juyeon?”

The name slipped out of San’s mouth before he had time to stop it. He froze. Scowl followed his eyes to the prone form and made an irritated noise before snapping his fingers to get the attention of his two friends. 

“Get this stuff to Aurora now. Tell them we’re coming.” 

Aurora? That name meant nothing to San. But between the destruction and the full bags and the prone body of the vault guard, he didn’t have to do much calculation. These Yuyan were looting the academy and he was the only one who knew about it. The only one who could do something.

Pretty-face nodded at Scowl, slung a bag over his shoulder, and bolted for the outer wall. While Scowl closed in, San watched the retreating archer freeze the rain running down the stones into icy handholds. In no time at all, he scrambled up over the edge and disappeared from view. He didn’t even bother to undo his waterbending. 

Meanwhile, the sturdy one dropped into a horse stance and double blocked sharply upwards. The debris from the vault wall responded in kind by moving back into place as though it had never been knocked down at all. Once he had cleaned up their crime scene, the earthbender snatched up all but one of the remaining bags and hightailed it as well. San wasn’t able to see where he went, but he doubted there would be much standing in that one’s way.

Scowl was close to striking range now, but watching San warily. He must have noticed by now that his opponent wasn’t carrying his bow and arrows and, for that matter, neither was he. So he shifted his weight and brought his hands up, ready to fight.

San recognized the forward stance and double knife hands immediately- he’d done it himself many times. This one was a firebender.

Scowl didn’t stay in his ready stance for long. Before San could fully size up his opponent, he was forced to move with him, darting back and to the side to avoid the first two strikes and their accompanying jets of flame. Luckily, wherever this firebender had trained, it had obviously been informal. He seemed to have some familiarity with pro-bending, given the volley of quick jabs he followed up with. And he had likely done some street fighting as well - his speed rivaled San’s own. However, his movements and the resulting bending lacked the control of someone formally trained.

So San dodged as much as possible. Even with better training, he was stuck at a serious disadvantage without a way to break up the other archer’s flames. He’d have to be careful until he could get close enough to land actual blows. But if he could wait him out and make him lose his focus or his breath -

“Wooyoung, let’s go!”

San had forgotten about the earthbender. He had followed his waterbender friend up the wall and was now calling down to the last of their crew. But he wasn’t sticking around for a response. One powerful uppercut and he too was gone down the other side of the wall.

Wooyoung cut his next round of attacks short, punctuating it with a side kick so forceful it had San scrambling backwards to stay out of the line of fire. With that extra distance between them, he quickly grabbed the remaining sack of loot, turned tail, and started to run for the wall too. 

What he lacked in fighting skill Wooyoung made up for in running speed. With the extra seconds he had bought himself, he was already part way up the wall by the time San got to it. And to San’s dismay, he had also melted the ice holds behind him, putting even more distance between them. A triumphant smile replaced Wooyoung’s scowl as he checked San’s position. He must have thought he was in the clear. In fact, he didn’t even bother turning around again when he reached the top, simply disappearing over the edge like his friends before him. 

San wouldn’t be deterred that easily. Maybe that was stupid. He might not be able to bend and he might not be a skilled archer, but he wasn’t going to let these three take off into the night without a chase. So he took a running start, jumped, and managed to catch himself on the decorative overhang on the wall’s edge. With a silent thanks to his years of training, he muscled himself the rest of the way to the top. 

He’d lost a little time getting up the wall the hard way though. In those few moments, the earthbender had carved a stone slab out of the rocky cliffside a short distance away and the waterbender was pulling Wooyoung up onto it. San couldn’t afford to hesitate. At least getting down the wall was easier than getting up. Jump down, land softly into a shoulder roll, worry about the bruises later. 

Wooyoung and his friends had their backs turned to him, more focused on the escape route in front of them than on the trainee archer they seemed to think they’d left behind in the fortress. San kept low, trying to hide his footsteps in the earth that was beginning to churn. He caught up just before they pulled away. But there was no way he’d be able to keep up on foot once this slab of rock gained any real momentum. 

He was beginning to lose hope when he spotted something - a broken piece of tree root, jutting out of the platform near the top. As quietly as he could, San stripped off his wet wool jacket and gathered it up, one sleeve looped around each hand. With a mental plea to, well anything, he slung the other end up toward the root. 

And not a moment too soon. With a sudden yank, the jacket sleeves went taut and San was swept off his feet. The platform sped away up the mountainside, propelled by the earthbender’s movements, with San dangling unseen off the back of it. 

In a matter of minutes, they were slowing again as the platform reached the summit. San’s arms were burning, but he had somehow survived the ride. Using his jacket and then the root he managed to pull himself up to a foothold and then roll himself over the top edge. Wooyoung was just a few feet away and his back was still turned. This was his chance.

He sprang to his feet and tackled the firebender back down to the ground in one swift movement. Wooyoung, taken off guard, twisted around in his grasp and landed hard on his back. San came down above him on his knees, quickly grabbing a fistful of the archer’s uniform with one hand and preparing a knockout punch with the other. 

The boy looked up at San, eyes narrowed and burning. He seemed furious, like San had taken something from him instead of the other way around. But more than that fury, there was something about Wooyoung that seemed strange. Almost blurred? San paused and blinked to try and clear his vision, but then it dawned on him -

“Y-your tattoos…”

The red around his opponent’s eyes had softened significantly at the edges. San watched as a raindrop rolled down Wooyoung’s temple, dragging color along with it onto his cheek. Slowly, with a taunting look spreading across his face, he reached up and pressed two fingertips to the skin under his eye. The touch left a bare patch of skin behind, dotted with a single dark freckle. But his fingertips were stained red.

Makeup. Whoever these people were, they weren’t Yuyan.

“Now!”

Wooyoung shouted, wriggling backwards out of San’s grip and kicking out at his knee for good measure. That nearly made San laugh, it was so desperately petulant - like a kid who wanted you to know exactly how mad they were that you wouldn’t hand over their toy. But it distracted him just long enough that, once again, he forgot about the other two people on the platform. 

But before he could turn to face them, the back of San’s head exploded in pain. 

Wooyoung’s triumphant face swam in and out of view while the world around him started to tilt and pulse. San could feel the three of them gathered around him, watching, waiting. His vision wobbled and then, as he hit the ground, it went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks once again to u/jellyboat for betaing! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated - I'd love to know what you guys think about this one


End file.
